craft is direct and simple. It does not come because his art is sound, but because he has no art at all! As an amateur the young actor knows a few simple rudiments of the actor's art; and those few things he does spontaneously with no thought or knowledge of the many other ways the same things might be done. It is when an actor begins to do consciously what he has been doing intuitively that he runs the danger of losing the very virtues which accounted for his early suc

cesses.

I remember seeing the Moffat Company in London. They had been playing in the provinces of Scotland with no pretense of being anything but what they were-a company of sincere amateurs. They brought Bunty Pulls the Strings to London, and carried that piece to a flattering success. They were the veriest amateurs, every one of them; but their total lack of mannerisms of all kinds, their absorption in their play and the atmosphere this created, their perfect naturalness and unstudied simplicity captivated London.

They were hailed as great actors. But after

Bunty" their popularity dwindled. Only one member of that company has ever been heard of since. That is, when they stopped playing this little Scotch piece, which was peculiarly their own, a picture of themselves and their everyday life, they failed. When they tried to do, by means of their technique, what they had been accustomed to do quite spontaneously, they brought themselves into competition with the regular profession; and their lack of solid training and experience was quickly and disastrously shown. They became self-conscious; they were unable to retain, as their knowledge increased, the delightful, unstudied simplicity which had first opened the doors for them.

What was true of this company has been true of many and many an actor, in a greater or less degree. I believe it must be truein a greater or less degree of all actors. And for the beginning actor I believe there is only one maxim which can guide him safely through this critical time, and enable him to

fulfil the bright promise he may show at the start. That maxim is the theme of this little book: Simplicity must be our aim. The more we know the greater grows the danger of losing that precious simplicity, that illusion of life, which is the end and aim of all our painfully-won knowledge. No actor can be a master of his craft until he has spent years in acquiring knowledge; and having acquired it, has learned as well how to conceal it from the audience and to appear as natural as the unprofessional player. This acquired naturalness is, in reality, infinitely more effective theatrically than that of the amateur-as is shown when the true professional and the amateur are placed side by side -but no man can realize his fullest powers as an actor who does not strive to refine his knowledge into an intelligent simplicity.

CHAPTER X

THE EFFECT OF REALISTIC SCENERY AND LIGHTING ON THE ACTOR

Work of the Actor Inextricably Interwoven with That of the Producer, Scenic Artist, etc.—Scenery Should Suggest not Copy Life, Should Stimulate not Overfeed or Starve the Imagination-The Ironworks in Galsworthy's Strife, "Real" and Suggested-Granville Barker's Setting for Androcles and the Lion: Proudly Crude and Frankly Primitive-The Primary Purpose of All Scenery-When the Imaginative Artist, the Interior Decorator, and the Landscape Gardener Clash-The Mechanical Ship That Would Not Wreck, and the Simpler Substitute-How Actors Are Often Swamped by Scenery-The Need of Coordination-The Terrors of Strange Furniture-Many Plays Ruined by Lack of Method-Lighting Which Blurs or Silhouettes the Faces of the Actors-Natural Lighting—Distracting Lights-Moonlight-Seeking the Impression of Reality, Not Reality Itself.

WT

HILE an actor is naturally concerned primarily with the art of conceiving the characters he plays and of projecting them properly, so much depends upon the mechanical accessories of the

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stage production that it may be well to turn our attention to that phase of the craft for a time. The work of the actor is inextricably interwoven with that of the producer, and the scenic artist, and the others. Together they are striving for a common end: the creation of theatrical effects, if by theatrical effects we mean those artistic illusions which are the legitimate and unique province of the theater.

These effects, as we have seen with regard to the actor, come best when the attempt is made not to copy life, but to suggest it. This great principle of stagecraft would surely seem to imply that absolute realism in staging is not, in itself, desirable. It is quite evident that the scenery and properties may be too realistic and thus defeat their purpose; instead of stimulating the imagination, they may banish it by giving it nothing to do. There is a tendency to regard absolute realism as an end in itself, whereas it is properly a means to an end.

If the scene is a grocery store, and the